


Ohh

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Dry Humping, Ficlet, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 15:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13814268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis finds out what his shield and advisor get up to when he’s not around.





	Ohh

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Ignis and Gladio end up spending the night at Noct's place. Noctis goes straight to bed after a while but Ignis and Gladio stay up for a while longer. When Noctis wakes up randomly in the middle of the night, he hears Iggy and Gladio having sex. And starts to get off to it. Except he's not very quiet and Iggy and Gladio quickly notice that he's listening to them. So they invite him to join in” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=8957323#cmt8957323).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He retires early, which is nothing new, especially when Prompto’s not around to keep him up. Gladiolus and Ignis have to attend the same boring council meeting as him in the morning, so for the sake of a carpool, they both choose to stay over. They say they’ll be fine on the couch, and by the time it’s late enough for Noctis to spare sleeping arrangements a second thought, he doesn’t care. He’s too tired. He yawns his way through brushing his teeth, changes into looser pajama bottoms, and curls up under the blankets in his bedroom. Then he shuts his eyes and tries to sleep.

Usually, it doesn’t take long. Some days, Noctis is perpetually bone-tired, and most nights, he can drop right off to dreamland. He has no trouble relaxing into his pillow and letting his mind empty out. He lingers on the verge of sleep for a while, comfortably lapping in and out of wakefulness. Then, after some time, a noise pulls him from his reverie.

Noctis’ eyes slit open through the darkness of his room. He can hear shuffling outside his door, probably back in the living area, where his shield and advisor must be still awake. There’s a steady thrum of rustling and shifting, then muffled voices. At first, Noctis blocks it out. But then curiosity gets the better of him and he strains to listen.

They’re whispering. Or at least, Ignis is. Gladiolus’ deep voice is rough and lilting, but it can’t penetrate the walls of Noctis’ expensive apartment. He frowns to himself and wonders if he cares enough to find out what they’re saying. Maybe they’re talking about him. They’re only one room away, after all. He decides that they probably are. And that he does care enough to bother.

He pushes out of bed, deliberately quiet but still slack from the cloying coils of sleep. They sing to him to go _back to bed_. But Gladiolus and Ignis’ hushed murmurs draw him forward.

He creaks the door open slowly, just enough to hear Ignis sigh, “We shouldn’t, not with Noctis so close...”

“He’ll never know,” Gladio answers, and that’s all Noctis needed to hear. Curiosity sufficiently spiked, he slips silently out into the hallway. He creeps along it right to the very end, where he can peer around the corner into the dimly-lit living room, illuminated only by the star and city lights slipping past the opened curtains. 

Ignis’ face is just barely visible when he opens his mouth to respond, only to arch up and break off in a little gasp. He’s lying on the couch, face up, legs spread with Gladiolus’ thick body between them. Ignis’ glasses have been set aside, his brown hair tousled and mussed. The only thing he wears is his knee-high socks, primly clinging on. But Gladiolus’ back obscures the rest of his naked body. Gladiolus is bent over Ignis, wearing only his trousers, riding low down his hips and clearly popped open. Noctis can see the tip of his crack as he thrusts forward, rolling into Ignis with a low, throaty groan. Ignis’ breath hitches.

He mumbles when he can, around little whines and cut off cries, “We... should stop...”

“Do you really want that, Iggy?” Gladiolus growls, husky and confident. His hips stab forward again, jostling Ignis up the cushions. Ignis’ hands dart up to clutch at Gladiolus’ broad shoulders. There’s one particular bead of sweat that Noctis watches twist down Gladiolus’ tanned spine, snaking over bare skin and the artful sweep of his tattoo. 

Ignis brokenly admits, “No.” 

With his own gulp of much-needed air, Noctis turns away. Safely hidden around the corner, he slowly slumps to the floor, less so because he’s tired and more so because his knees were probably about to start shaking. Of all the things he thought he’d see, it wasn’t _that_. His handsome shield’s clearly fucking the brains out of his gorgeous advisor. Of course he always knew they were both attractive. And maybe he’s seen a _look_ or two thrown between them, but that was a far cry from _this_. Noctis’ hands are shaking at his sides. When he glances down, he’s not at all surprised to see a tent in his pajama pants. He always tries not to think of Gladiolus and Ignis like that, naturally—he _is_ a good friend. But seeing them and _hearing_ them makes it almost impossible. He can still hear the wet squelching sounds and the slap of skin on skin as Gladiolus’ pace picks up. The couch must be scraping back and forth. Ignis’ noises are the worst. He sounds _wrecked_ , and Noctis can guess why. Once or twice after training, he’s seen Gladiolus’ dick in the showers. He knows it’s just as massive as the rest of Gladiolus’ muscular body. And Ignis, contrastingly slim and taut, is probably ridiculously _tight_.

Noctis’ cock twitches in its confines. Noctis drops one hand into his lap without thinking, letting his heel press down against the swell of his shaft. Then he risks peeking around the corner again, because he can’t _not_. Not with how they’re going. Now Ignis’ feet are digging into the small of Gladiolus’ back like holding on for dear life, and Noctis watches, mesmerized, as Gladiolus’ chiseled cheeks dimple with each thrust. Ignis has a hand over his mouth, maybe to make sure he doesn’t wake his prince, even though it’s too late for that. Gladiolus’ head is buried over Ignis’ shoulder, probably going to town on the slender column of his neck. Noctis wishes he could _see_ it. He wants a better angle. Wants to get closer. He wants to pull them apart and kneel down in front of them, then watch the slow push of Gladiolus’ enormous cock into Ignis’ stretched and leaking hole. 

Noctis lets out a moan, bucking up into his hand and tossing his head back. It’s not until he sees both Gladiolus and Ignis stop that he realizes his mistake. Then he quickly clamps his other hand over his mouth and pulls back to hide. 

Ignis shakily calls anyway, “Noct...?”

Noctis doesn’t answer. He wonders if he could possibly sneak back to his room now without them hearing his footsteps. Even though he’s got more clothes on than both of them, he knows he’s probably bright red with embarrassment. He should probably be _more_ embarrassed. He should probably be awkward and ashamed, rather than horribly turned on.

But he’s a young man with raging hormones and an apartment full of hotties, so it is what it is. He stays stock still as heavier footsteps lumber over.

Then Gladiolus appears around the corner, wearing just his trousers, now buttoned up. Noctis’ eyes still immediately fall to the evident bulge in them. 

Gladiolus frowns down at him, a little red too. Gladiolus opens his mouth, probably to scold his naughty prince for spying, but then his gaze falls to Noctis’ lap. Noctis’ arousal is all too obvious.

A grin stretches over Gladiolus’ mouth. Before Noctis can splutter apologizes or faked disinterest, Gladiolus all but purrs, “Were you just gonna stay out here in the hall, or be a man and come ask for an invite?”

Noctis blinks. 

He stares up at Gladiolus, and when Gladiolus just keeps grinning, Noctis leans forward to catch a glimpse of Ignis. One of the small couch pillows has made its way between Ignis’ legs, cruelly cutting off the view. The rest of Ignis’ body still looks spent and pliant, his face flushed but glassy-eyed as he sighs, “That would be horribly inappropriate, Gladio. You know we can hardly do so with our charge...”

“I wasn’t suggesting we fuck him,” Gladiolus snorts, to Noctis’ guilty disappointment. “Just stick him in the middle...”

Noctis’ head snaps back to Gladiolus, both confused and wildly _horny_. Gladiolus spares him a smirk, then bends down to snatch up his wrist. The next thing Noctis knows, he’s being tugged up to his feet.

And he’s guided over through the living room, right to the couch, where Gladiolus snatches the offending pillow away. Ignis tenses but makes no other move to cover himself. And Noctis gets to stare down at his beautiful body, all strewn out on display. He’s always known Ignis was beautiful. Ignis stares up at him through a haze of thick lust that doesn’t seem to diminish at Noctis’ interruption. Noctis wants to kiss him.

Noctis doesn’t get the chance to move. Before he can do anything, Gladiolus is shoving him forward, and he stumbles onto Ignis, still fully dressed in his pajamas. His head falls over Ignis’ shoulder, hands scrambling for purchase against the couch cushions and around Ignis’ bared chest, legs spreading over Ignis’ lap. Ignis’ hard cock is pressed against his thigh. And then Gladiolus is bearing over him, climbing right back into place. Noctis looks back to find Gladiolus’ washboard abs surging forward. Noctis is flattened down against Ignis, crushed between both men. When Ignis gasps and shivers, Noctis can guess well enough what’s happened. Gladiolus is back _inside_. And Ignis’ long cock is pulsing hotly against his inner thigh, while Noctis throbs against Ignis’ stomach, too trapped in by fabric.

There’s no time to undress. Gladiolus picks back up where he left off. When he thrusts forward, Noctis can _feel_ it, and Gladiolus grinds him down, digging him into Ignis’ perfect body. Noctis moans louder than Ignis does. Even without skin-on-skin, it’s burning hot. _So_ hot. His ass feels tender and hyper sensitive as Gladiolus drags over it. He wants them to _fuck him_ properly—he doesn’t even know which, doesn’t care how—but he knows Ignis wouldn’t approve, and he doesn’t have the wherewithal to push the issue. It’s all Noctis can do to keep from coming in his boxers. 

Without another word, Gladiolus picks up into a rough, merciless rhythm, crushing Noctis down the entire time and fucking Ignis senseless. Noctis barely has room to breathe, but he wants to use what room he has to lavish Ignis—kiss his cheek, mouth at his jaw, leave telling bruises all along his throat—but Noctis can’t seem to manage. He doesn’t have any experience, and the two of them at once is overwhelming, even if he isn’t really _having_ them. The feeling of it, the smell of it, the sound of it, even the thought of it is enough. He’s rock solid, close to the edge in no time. If they did actually _fuck_ Noctis, he’d probably come embarrassingly fast.

Instead, he manages to last all the way until Gladiolus bends over his shoulder to press a fierce, wet kiss against Ignis’ open mouth. Noctis watches Gladiolus’ tongue slip out to trace Ignis’ lips before plunging inside, licking him out, and Ignis’ desperate moan utterly undoes Noctis. He turns to bury his scream in Ignis’ taut chest, and he comes inside his boxers, humping Ignis through it like a dog in heat.

He can hear Gladiolus’ smooth chuckle, but that only makes the orgasm better. Ignis lets out a breathy, “ _Noct_...” And Noctis comes and comes, more than he probably ever has, while Gladiolus keeps fucking Ignis.

Ignis is the next to come. Only a few seconds after Noctis is dizzily spiraling down, Ignis cries out and arches up, cock bursting against Noctis’ lap. Noctis can feel it dampening his pants. He grinds shamelessly into Ignis through it, moaning and somehow still needy. Gladiolus is the last to follow. When he comes, he _roars_ , and he slams down so hard that Noctis could swear it’s too much for his lungs. 

Even when Gladiolus is finally finished, he slumps down, too heavy against Noctis’ back. But they’re probably all too heavy for Ignis. Ignis doesn’t complain. Maybe he likes being suffocated. Or maybe he’s just been fucked too brainless to protest. The three of them lie there, panting and sweaty.

For a long moment, they’re all quiet. Noctis is dizzy from his orgasm, still a little embarrassed and not really sure where he stands, but he doesn’t want to risk asking and screwing it up. He wants this _again_. But _more_. Next time they stay over, he wants them in his bed, not him alone while the two of them have all the fun out on the couch.

Ignis is the first to break the silence afterwards. He murmurs tiredly, “We’ll have to have a talk.”

“In the morning,” Gladiolus grunts, like he won’t allow anything to interrupt the peace of his afterglow.

“Agreed,” Ignis sighs. “But in the meantime, we all have an early day tomorrow, and Noctis, most of all, needs his sleep.”

“Yeah,” Gladiolus ascents. Then his weight is lifting off Noctis’ back, leaving Noctis feeling strangely cold. 

But it’s worth it when a minute later, Gladiolus easily scoops him up, cradling him close. A serene smile crosses Ignis’ face at the view. As spent as Noctis is, he doesn’t need to be carried like a child, and more importantly, he doesn’t want to leave Ignis. 

He still lets Gladiolus carry him back to his room, but only because Ignis swiftly follows, albeit with a slight limp and a hand on Gladiolus’ shoulder to compensate for his missing glasses and the darkness. Noctis muffles a yawn against Gladiolus’ chest, and then he’s being laid down in his bed. 

He lifts up the blanket, pleased when Gladiolus takes the hint and joins him under it. Ignis sighs but follows, and he curls just as close to Noctis as Gladiolus does. As Noctis settles into his pillow, Gladiolus leans across Noctis to give Ignis a good night kiss, which Ignis tenderly returns. 

Noctis wants one too. But he doesn’t push it. Not yet. Maybe they’ll negotiate that in the morning. He wants to skip the royal council entirely—the meeting in his apartment is bound to be far more fun. Ignis murmurs, “Good night, Noct.”

Gladiolus mutters, “’Night, kid.”

Noctis yawns, “Night,” in return, then slips off into very happy dreams.


End file.
